The Growth of Parliament and the War with Scotland (1216-1307) — Text and Context

The Battle of Evesham as a Set-Piece

The account of Evesham in the excerpt is a model of tactical clarity: Edward moved from Worcester, crossed the river near Claines, and cut off the Earl's approach to his son. The Earl of Gloucester and Roger Mortimer arrived from two other directions, leaving Leicester hemmed in. The chronicler specifies the date (August 5, a Tuesday) and the location (a large plain outside the town). The battle itself is described with minimal gore but maximal portent: a storm of thunder and lightning at the moment of death, darkness that amazed all. The aftermath lists twelve knights bannerets and many Welsh foot-soldiers among the fallen. This is not a dry military summary; it is a narrative designed to evoke a sense of doomed heroism and divine intervention. The editors of this source book likely included it to illustrate how medieval chroniclers shaped events into moral lessons.

Simon de Montfort: Saint or Rebel?

The character sketch of Simon de Montfort presents a carefully constructed image: he defended the poor, maintained justice, was learned, moderate, frugal, and given to night vigils. He relied on Bishop Grosseteste, who reportedly prophesied that Simon and his eldest son would die on the same day in the cause of justice. The bishop also declared that those who died for the peace of the Church would be crowned with martyrdom. After his death, Simon was said to work miracles, but these were not made public for fear of kings. This portrait is hagiographic, not objective. It reveals how contemporaries—or later chroniclers—sought to legitimize de Montfort's rebellion by framing it as a holy cause. The source book's inclusion of this text invites readers to weigh the evidence for and against such a characterization.

The Disinherited and the Isle of Ely

The excerpt from the Chronicon Thomæ Wykes (1266-1267) shifts focus to the aftermath of the Barons' War. The Disinherited—those who had fought on the losing side—took refuge in the Isle of Ely, a fenland stronghold. The chronicle describes their situation with a mix of sympathy and pragmatism: they were outlaws, but their cause was not entirely extinguished. The editors of this volume likely chose this passage to show how the conflict continued beyond Evesham, and how the crown dealt with lingering resistance. The Isle of Ely itself is a recurring motif in medieval English history, a place of last stands. The excerpt does not provide a full narrative, but it offers a glimpse into the legal and military complexities of the period. Readers are left to infer how the Disinherited were eventually pacified, and what that meant for the growth of royal authority.

This source book does not present a single story but a collection of voices—chroniclers, bishops, kings, and rebels. The excerpts are chosen for their liveliness and partisan edge, not for balance. Readers should treat each document as a piece of evidence to be questioned: who wrote it, for what audience, and with what bias? The value lies not in the facts alone, but in the act of inference. Approach these texts as raw material for constructing your own understanding of a turbulent century.

I remember sitting with a dog-eared sourcebook once, feeling the cold weight of 1216–1307—Evesham’s mud, de Montfort’s grim resolve. It wasn’t a story told, but raw fragments I had to shape myself. That same quiet ache returned in the Chronicles (1 of 6): The Historie of England (7 of 8) The Seventh Boke of the Historie of England — Reading Companion, where history breathes between the lines, almost like a held breath.